M For Mature
by Maige
Summary: Falling for a stripper wouldn't be all bad if it wasn't for public view of these sorts of things. The fact that the stripper's brother is your friend is also a downer. Het!MapleTea


Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

Holy shit it's a fanfiction. What is life.

I started reading stuff on here again and suddenly I wanted to write some shit. I have no idea if anyone's still here, or if those here still like this couple, but woop.

Warnings: MapleTea, stripper!Maddie because fuck I wanted to write that for a while, strippers in general, all that jazz

* * *

How did he get here, Arthur didn't want to remember.

And yet he did.

The fates oh so desperately wished to spell their hatred onto him. Everything started by an event that for most people would cause them the greatest of joys imaginable; his Father was dead, his brothers were off doing God knows what, and he was now the head of the company that his Father had recently owned. It was a vast company, working along with the government, and brought in heaps and heaps of cash over the time his Dad had still been alive.

Considering his brothers were all AWOL, Arthur was the last person needed to take over the company. He was supposed to be the head of it now and to be quite frank; the Kirkland boy didn't want it. He wished to simply explore the world like the rest of his brothers, but his Father had held him back.

The most unfortunate aspects of their squabbling was that Arthur was cut off from most of the money, and had recently worked as a librarian, barely managing to scrape enough money to pay rent for the tiny apartment that he lived in.

Oh, he was happy that he could finally have enough money that the scare of wondering if he was going to be able to pay the next month's rent was gone from him, but the second those around him learned what happened…one of his friends clamboured on that this was a great means for celebration.

At a strip club.

Arthur couldn't say that he had the best of…friends, if they could even be considered that.

There was Kiku, a Japanese man who took the stereotype of all Japanese people and upped it to eleven. He could not stand anyone touching him (often telling people to take responsibility if they did, as if they had gotten him pregnant rather than offer a friendly hug or handshake), was utterly obsessed with taking pictures of the strange sights of North America despite the fact he had been there for years now, and was complete closet pervert.

Arthur wasn't all too thrilled when Kiku showed off his manga collection, half of it including straight up porn (censored porn; though Kiku actually had complained that the English versions always had to censor over private parts).

Then there was Yao, Kiku's older brother. He was at the head of the library, a respectable man who Arthur shared a cup of tea with quite often. For some reason or another he had a strange obsession with a Chinese Hello Kitty knock off named Shinatty-chan (whose name Arthur soon realized, if translated, wasn't exactly a nice word) and had been born with the verbal tic of 'aru', a verbal tic that came more often when he was pissed off at someone.

The fourth was Alfred. An annoying fellow, in his early twenties, one whom also worked at the library…even though he was awful at his job, continually going on that he would be much better if he could be on some amazing football team…or, to Arthur's amusement, a superhero. He claimed he had a sister who lived in town but Arthur had yet to ever see her.

And finally to round out his few friends was Francis; albeit Francis was honestly the one whom he wasn't all too sure if he could call a companion or not. They had met a few years back when he started to work at the library, and had met when Francis tried to hit on him. Arthur said firmly and bluntly that he was a straight man, Francis kept pursing him out to the parking lot, and finally Arthur gave him a nice clip below the eye.

He stopped trying to come onto him since then; however, he had yet to leave him alone.

And now, for celebration on the fact that Arthur had adopted a sum of money, he came straight up to the library and announced rather loudly that they were going to the most grand and respectable of strip clubs the city had to offer.

Arthur had dryly offered the fact that there was no such thing as a respectable strip club, at least not in America of all places.

Francis retorted with the fact that Arthur was never the type to go to strip clubs so he wouldn't know; and being a person who was well skilled in all things that concerned passion, he knew where the classy strippers all played.

Arthur tried to respond back with protest, but unfortunately his words were lost on deaf ears. By the end of his shift, at ten sharp, Francis was in the library and was dragging him out to his car. A ten minute drive downtown and he was being dragged into the club.

Now, Arthur was quite a respectable man. He took himself to be a little bit of a prude, probably because most of the people surrounding him were raging perverts, whether they preferred virtual or real women, and never in his life assumed that he would ever step into this sort of establishment. It completely abolished the gentleman-ways he so dearly clung onto.

"This is degrading," Arthur grumbled hotly as they stepped further into the building. It looked like it could have been any normal club; strobe lights, there was a dance floor, that awful modern American shit they call music was blasting through the air…except for the fact that there was a familiar stage on one side of the area, one where it was obvious the strippers came out of.

He had to admit, it wasn't absolutely filthy as he had assumed to be. Then again, it could merely seem clean on the surface. For all he knew everything and everyone in here could be crawling with some sort of sexual disease.

"Will you quit being such a prude, mon ami?" Francis asked him, guiding him near the stage. He cocked a fine eyebrow down to Arthur and forced him to take one of the free seats available, plopping down delicately beside him. "Enjoy the show~! You deserve to have a little relaxation now that you can quit your job and get a bigger house. Besides, it would probably be best for you now if you were to finally get laid."

Arthur sputtered, whipping around his green-eyed glare towards the Frenchman. "Frog, this has nothing to do with having sex. Merely because I've acquired a good sum of money doesn't mean I wish to spend it constantly on strippers…besides, I'm going to stay in the same apartment. I'll only be able to fix everything wrong with it on my own."

"Whatever you say.~ Just allow it this one time, would you? You could use a strip tease or a lap dance."

"I'm not going to have either." Arthur looked back up to the stage, noting that at the moment it was empty, before allowing his eyes to slide across the room to the bar. "I'd rather much get a few pints and then leave off for the night with a good buzz."

"The women here can leave you off with something better than a buzz…" This was followed by his strange French laugh and another glare from the British man sitting beside him.

"Shut it."

"Can you at least watch then? I won't call any attention to you but...I came on this particular night because Fridays airs their most…tantalizing of women," Francis purred, leaning over to Arthur and getting a little bit too close for comfort. "Even the stiffest of men will melt for her. She's just…nnn…gorgeous."

Arthur cringed as Francis practically gave out the moan, gingerly pushing him back. "I don't need to hear you describe her for me. I'll see her when I see her."

Francis, obviously ignoring him, decided to go on. He was leaning back into his seat, eyes glazed over and his lips twisted up into that lewd smirk Arthur had grown to hate over time. "She only went topless once but oh Dieu was that a wonderful day. She has hair just as beautiful as mind, curls that fall down her back…violet eyes that are full of that – mm – innocence that can get anyone hot and bothered…breasts that are so full yet are actually real…and those legs…oh Dieu those legs, how I wish I could have them wrapped around my waist…and lips that I wish would be wrapped around my-"

He was cut off as Arthur cuffed him smartly over the head. "Are you bloody deaf? I said I do not want to hear what you have to say about her! Besides, you make her sound like she's nothing more than a piece of meat."

"Oh Arthur," Francis sighed, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "Do you truly believe I would ever think of a woman as such?"

"You believe everything that can move is as such."

Francis huffed, but his mouth twisted back into that shit-eating grin. "You'll be thinking the same when you see her though."

Rolling his eyes, Arthur sank into his seat. This was utterly degrading, for both him and the women he was supposed to watch. And as the first girl came out, obviously not the one that the frog had been describing earlier, Arthur was starting to believe that he should have punched him again to get out of this mess.

A few girls came by and went. They did their dances, did their strip teases, and though Arthur did sink further into his seat with an increasingly red face (when Francis had mentioned that he needed to get laid, Arthur could at least mentally admit that it had been a while since he went to bed with a woman) how so many of the women just looked…fake completely put him off to actually getting excited from what he was seeing.

All of the women so far had rather large breasts attached to them – literally attached to them. They were large, they were perfectly round and perfectly perky…and because of that he knew that they had been implanted by some doctor to somehow make themselves appear more attractive.

In the Brit's eyes, it was rather disgusting having those incredibly stiff breasts flashed around; one of the many reasons why he was never all too fond of strip clubs in the first place. They were lanky slips of woman with oversized breasts received by a most likely shady doctor. Meanwhile, Francis beside him was…well, he was making sounds. That was all Arthur needed to hear to not look over and see what he was doing.

Then, finally…that girl came out.

It was nearing midnight by this point. Arthur had finally gotten a few drinks and was feeling that buzz he was craving earlier on. The world was tilting back and forth in quite a pleasant manner, and by now he wasn't all too caring of any of the women that came up onto the stage.

Until this next girl.

She was undoubtedly the one that Francis was fawning about. She was somewhat shorter than most of the other women, but her legs still had the impression of going on for miles. A waterfall of blonde cascaded down her back, untamed and wild yet utterly luscious within the lights pouring down on her; and for some reason a strange curl sprouted out from the crown of her head. To his surprise, upon further inspection, she did indeed have purple eyes; though for all he knew they could have been contacts.

The rest of her body nearly blew him away. The girl was adorned in a bikini, like all the others had, but the material looked softer, cotton instead of the normal silk. Both the bra and panties were red with a much darker patch of red covering up any private bits, the darker patches created in the pattern of hearts. From between her bosom was a tiny white bow, matching the tiny white bow on the band of her panties.

Her breasts, though of a nice size, still leaned down a little from the loose bra…they weren't perfectly round like the others, simply natural; and now he knew what Francis had been getting at.

The downside was…the girl looked like she could have been a well-endowed sixteen year old.

Her face didn't have the defined look of the others. Every other girl could have been in their late twenties and had sharp, angled faces, points of their bodies that showed off their age. This one had a slightly rounded face, still with high, defined cheekbones, but that was where it ended.

Her eyes helped. True to Francis' word, she looked absolutely innocent, as if she were embarrassed over having to go out like this. Hell, as some of the men around them threw out some cat calls her face immediately flushed over and she appeared to be promptly tentative.

Swallowing hard the blonde finally got to the pole and started.

Needless to say, now that Arthur was actually paying attention, he was slightly blown away.

She did the same dance and routine as every other girl, grind up against the pole, climb it and swing around it, climb it only to slowly fall as he leaned backwards, giving an appreciative view of her breasts as the pale skin appeared to be even paler in the bright lights above. She neared all the men sitting around her, teasing them as she got down – somehow without falling on those heels – and struck teasing poses, even the most lewd expressions crossing her face having a tint of innocence to it.

Even when she was near Arthur, so close that they were actually making eye contact - that hazy, almost childish amethyst meeting wide-eyed emerald - and teasingly almost brought down her bra, exposing the areola around her nipple before snapping it back up, she kept that hint of whimsy in her.

Though at that point Arthur nearly filled the front of his pants, so he wasn't paying all that much attention.

Finally, with a few bills stuffed into her panties she made off back stage, and that was the end of the show for the evening.

"Liked her, did you not?" Francis' silken voice broke him out of his spell. Blinking wildly, Arthur looked down to see that his hands were clutching the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles were growing to a white hue. He also noticed that his pants were just a tad too tight at the moment.

"She was…um…that is to say…." Oh fuck it. Now he was tongue tied.

Francis laughed richly, loping an arm around the Brit. "I cannot blame you. If I had known you would like her this much though, I would have requested a private little dance for you…ah…you might need one at this second." He gestured towards Arthur's pants.

Scowling, Arthur wrenched his arm away from him. "Will you kindly shut your mouth already, frog? I came-"

"Non, not yet."

"_Shut up! _I bloody well came here on your wishes and know that it is over I intend to go straight home." Without waiting for a response, Arthur stood from his seat and started out of the establishment, a snickering Francis following suit. All the while Arthur could only wonder why exactly had he been so attracted to that one girl?

If it was because she looked younger than the rest, he was going to have to see a therapist of some sorts.

But no, he didn't believe it was that…it was…that goddamned innocent thing she had going on!

He had no knowledge of this before, but apparently he had quite the kink for women who went about sexual acts like that and yet acted like they could still be virgins, ones who seemed like they were still all tight and shy and easily flustered and unknowing of when it comes to true intercourse.

An odd thing to learn about oneself, he had to admit.

Thankfully, over the next few days, despite Francis pleading and begging to go with him again, Arthur was having none of it. As much as he had been attracted to that one blonde didn't mean he was going to go over and over to watch her strip and parade around; naturally, when he brought this up to Francis the Frenchman waggled his fine eyebrows and offered to get them a little private session together.

Again, Arthur refused. He wasn't a fan of a quick suck, fuck, any wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. Besides, he had things to work on.

He was now the CEO of his Father's company. There were meetings abound, papers to sign, people to meet. For a few weeks he was busy, and soon enough the image of that fine girl was gone from his head, a distant memory of one visit to a strip-club that wasn't worth remembering.

Next to that, he had his apartment to work on. Getting it refurnished, finally getting the money to fix everything that needed to be fixed (as the landowner was a cheap-ass prick who got someone to be able to make repairs that would last for a mere few days), and made the apartment actually look somewhat nice.

To make matters better, his neighbors, a rowdy young couple who had no idea what the idea of privacy was, finally moved out. It seemed like everything was starting to peak up for him.

Then news from his neighbor on the other side, an old man who mercifully did keep to himself quite often and was actually not that bad of a man, told him that there was news of someone moving up there.

"You know that loud fellow down at the library you used to work at?" he asked Arthur as they collected their mail downstairs, his yellow cornea laced eyes looking up at the younger boy.

"Alfred, I presume?"

"Aiyah, him. I was up there yesterday and he wouldn't shut his yapper at me about how his sister was moving to the apartments. Wouldn't stop gammering about how she had lived with their parents but was kicked out."

"I can only hope she is not like him," Arthur commented with a wry smile.

The old man laughed dryly. "I can only hope the same."

And not a few days later things were being moved into the apartment next to his. Furniture after piece of furniture came until one day as Arthur was going to enter his apartment, he spotted a young woman at the door beside his, fumbling with her keys.

From where he was she looked like a fifteen year old – mostly because her light blonde hair was done up in pigtails with red bows and red clips to keep the hair out of her face.

Oddest of all was there was a…strange curl. Sprouting from directly the crown of her head.

Arthur nearly dropped his keys. Looking the rest of her over, she was wearing a red skirt and red hoodie, so it was hard to make out the majority of her body…it was obvious that she had skinny legs but other than that…she also had glasses.

"U-um…good day there lass," Arthur greeted, giving a small curt.

The poor girl nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke, and turned around to face him, looking like a right deer in the headlights.

Arthur did drop her keys then.

Behind her fashionable glasses were eyes of a deep purple.

* * *

Oh snap. Arthur realizes that his friend's sister was the chick he watched do a little dance for them. And the one he found himself attracted to. And oh snap she's his next door neighbor? What crazy antics are going to come from this?

No fucking clue. I might continue it, might not; for now this was mostly written just because my thirst for writing Hetalia needed to be quenched and I always wanted to write out a stripper!Maddie. We'll see from feedback/my own interest if there's more.


End file.
